A Faint Giveaway
by WolvesFire77
Summary: Many were suppose to forget, others denied it even existed, but very few actually know of the real truth. Maybe-oneshot.


A/N: Ok I had found an old flash drive with a folder labled _Stories_ on it. This was one of the little stories I found on there.

* * *

Doorwings.

They're optic enticing.

Music to a visor.

With the way they sweep and turn over so gracefully you can't help but stare. The youngest of the three: Bluestreak. He had his own patterns as did the others. His was short and jerky, moving here and there and moving everywhere. They seemed to be like him, moving and bouncing everywhere, run by the power of speech.

The oldest: Smokescreen. His grace was to be held out, hiding what he was thinking, just as hard as his poker face. Keeping you guessing what his next move would be. He was a mystery within himself.

Ahhh last but certainly my personal favorite was Prowl, the middle of the three. Yes the mech's grace was to flow and move in such easy motions they could only be done by that mech, and that mech only. His appendages were always held up high and flared out. Demanding respect and strict control from those under him. And if he didn't have it, he got it anyway he could all while never stepping a pede outta place.

But the resident Datsun's grace often went unnoticed. Like for instance right now. Prowl talked with Prime, doorwings held back, the black panelling in the back close enough to touch each other. It was interesting to watch a winged mech talk. Some people talk with their hands, mechs with wings...talk with their wings. I find it rather amusing and fascinating myself. Amuscinating. Fascusing. Whatever you want to call it.

But you know, I've never seen a doorwinged mech until I stepped into the ark. Or more like until I met one in the ark. I'd never seen one in Kaon.

Texohera.

Even Iacon, where it's most populated.

No where.

So I asked one of the mechs, Prowl. The late youngest of the resident winged-group, but he sure doesn't act it. Anyway one late orn when we were shifting our system's into recharge I gently kicked the corner of the top bunk, watching as the wing tips laying on the rails twitch.

"Prowler."

"Yes Jazz?"

Primus I love his amused tone. It always makes me crack some kinda smile.

"Where'd you come from?"

I was surprised at the long pause. It wasn't like Prowl to ever hesitate. Or pause. And he was doing very much of those two things right now. So, logically I get to a standing position on my bunk and grab a hold of the rails on his bunk for support. I lift my head up and saw him laying on his side, staring at the door (or more like straight through my head at the door.) Now I was gettin' worried.

"Prowler?"

Still nothing, so I gently wrap my fingers around the wing tip within reach, feeling the warm metal under my cool touch. Well that effectively broke his weird trance.

"Jazz?"

"You ok?"

"Oh course I'm alright. But I should be asking you the same question."

"You didn't answer my question though."

"Really? I apologize. If you may, can I hear it again?"

Damn polite bastard. But I didn't mind. I liked Prowl from this view.

"Where'd you come from?"

He shuttered his optics and frowned; the tips of his chevron slightly wilting outward as he forwarded his optical ridges.

"I d-...I don't know."

So being the playful mech I was I leaned back, and swung. Now I've done this many time before, swinging around the top berth's railing and landing next to Prowler. I was quite the acrobat back on cybertron you know. Well I guess Primus was playing some kinda sick joke cause some how a _bolted-to-the-floor_ berth suddenly swung with my weight and fell over, throwing Prowl and myself onto the floor. I had landed on my back and sighed rather dramaticly. "Well I guess that's a sign, wouldn't you say?" Lolling my head to the side I saw Prowl landed on his front. Ouch. His wings were limp and his optics were thin slits, glaring at me. "Prowler?" I reached out to only stop right where I was when he broke the silence.

"Jazz...where's the berth?"

Yup, Primus you could at least have had me not look at the damn thing as it came crashing down on top of us!

Eh well...atleast it knocked me out right away, after all I say since that berth was what...a few tons of pure cyber alloyed steel? Yeah so...imagine getting thrown a whole squad of minibots straight to the helm. Without putting your hands up or catching them. Yup, painful.

* * *

Ow.

_Oww._

**OWWW!**

Frag! My head's pounding! So I open my optics, only to see the glaring light flare on my visor.

"Well, you did it..._again_."

Turning my head ever so slowly to the right I saw the white medic. The white psychopathic medic. Ahh good 'ol Ratchet.

"Wha?"

"Don't try to move. I jacked you up with enough sedative to drop Devastator right on the dot."

"Wha'-why?"

"Why else? You kept moving."

"So...what happened?"

"Well you stood on your berth and hung to the rail."

"Kay."

"You leaned back"

"Kay."

"And you some how managed to overturn a bolted berth effectively throwing Prowl off and angling the metal berth to come crashing down on you two."

"I DID _**WHAT**_?!"

I shot up into a sitting position effectively showing how surprised I was when in reality I wasn't. I knew I had done that, only to feel my processor continue flying without my body. I groaned so loud it even worried Ratchet. Clutching my head I turned to him and smirked.

"I thought you sedated me."

His look could have made me laugh had it not been painful to do so.

"Yeah, me too. Just lay back down."

Doing as I was told I slowly laid back, sighing in relief when the soft materials of the medical berth seemed to ease the pain crawling down my spinal column. Then I remembered something of importance. So I slowly turned to Ratchet, who I already had the attention of.

"Hey Ratch'...how's Prowler?"

He looked over my head, and I took that as the sign to turn too. So I did. Prowl lay on his right side on the berth next to mine, completely in recharge. That's what I needed so see, needed to know. That cooling feeling of reassurance washed over me. I sighed contentedly and laid back down to watch Ratchet as he ran scans on the doorwinger. It was silent for a good amount of time, and it wasn't till he was done with all his routine scans that he suddenly broke the silence.

"So how'd you do it?"

I watched him for a few Earth seconds, absently noting the medical sounds echoing thorough out the medical bay, before finally responding to him.

"Do what?"

I tried wracking my processor to think of what Ratchet might be talking about, but sadly nothing came to mind. So I tried my best to play coy. Apparently my attempt wasn't appreciated because he gave me his _'don't-give-me-that-slag'_ kinda look. I tried smiling if off but he just shook his head, slightly glaring.

"Don't give me that slag."

See...told you.

"I'm talking about how you activated the block coding."

"Block coding? What'd you..."

Then it hit me. The hesitation and far away looks I've never seen before. I must've shown some form of realization because soon Ratchet was talking again. Though this time he was staring at Prowl with…pity? Sadness? I don't even know myself. I've never seen this kind of expression on the medic's faceplates before.

"I'm not sure if I'm the right one to be telling you this Jazz…but I feel it's time you know. It's not necessarily patient/doctor confidentiality because this does not pertain to just one mecha. You can go and see the file yourself but I'll give you the condensed version of it."

I shifted to my side so I could face him more comfortably.

"Condensed version…of what exactly Ratchet?"

He stared at Prowl in silence for a while, long enough that I thought he wouldn't answer me. It wasn't till he turned and gave me a look harder than Ironhide's outer armor that I knew I wasn't going to like this conversation.

"Of the real destruction of Praxus."

* * *

Author's Notes:  
So this was all there was to this little story. I'm not too positive if I'm going to continue on with it or just claim it as a oneshot or something of the like. I do remember the whole plot line and other things that this story was going to have, so maybe thats a sign to go ahead with it? Like I said, not too sure.

Anyway...enjoy my findings on old flash drives!


End file.
